


you’re suffering, and there’s nothing coming next

by theweirddivide



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Peter Parker, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sex, Forced Orgasm, Hand Jobs, Hurt Peter Parker, Light Bondage, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Quentin Beck Being a Jerk, Rape/Non-con Elements, Top Quentin Beck, van sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28479726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweirddivide/pseuds/theweirddivide
Summary: While passing by a mostly empty street, Peter heard a loud curse coming from an alleyway directly to his left. The voice sounded familiar, and so he stopped and turned his head to the source.Quentin Beck, an advisor at Stark Industries whom he’d bumped into more than a few times, was leaning over an open van hood and tinkering with its engine. He didn’t seem to notice the boy’s presence, so Peter spoke up first.“Mr. Beck, hey!”In which Peter learns not to trust even the most seemingly innocent of situations.
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 10
Kudos: 88





	you’re suffering, and there’s nothing coming next

**Author's Note:**

> If you couldn’t already tell by the tags, here’s your major “Fucked Up” warning! Please do not read if it will be triggering, or if this stuff isn’t your cup of tea. Otherwise... Enjoy!

Peter walked down the New York City street, having just exited the subway that had taken him from Manhattan to Queens after finishing a productive lab day with Mr. Stark. His shoes slapped against the damp pavement as he continued towards the direction of his apartment, muscle memory guiding him through the familiar streets he called home. 

While passing by a mostly empty street, Peter heard a loud curse coming from an alleyway directly to his left. The voice sounded familiar, and so he stopped and turned his head to the source.

Quentin Beck, an advisor at Stark Industries whom he’d bumped into more than a few times, was leaning over an open van hood and tinkering with an engine. He didn’t seem to notice the boy’s presence, so Peter spoke up first.

“Mr. Beck, hey!” He greeted cheerfully. The man turned his head towards him, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of the teenager. 

“Hello, Peter,” Beck said simply. He angrily tugged something that was inside the car.

“Did your van break down?” Peter asked taking a few steps towards the engine. The van was long and black, two seats in the front with a chain partition leading to the open back, which was not visible through the windows.

“Yep,” the bearded man replied, “Halfway home from my weekly grocery shopping. Damn ice cream is probably already melted— Haven’t been able to get at what the problem is,” he scoffed. Peter perked up. Hours spent fixing his aunt’s beat up old car, and tinkering with various vehicles with Tony, would definitely pay off in this situation. Plus, he could help out and impress one of his Stark Industries superiors— a win-win. 

“I could have a look,” Peter suggested. Beck made a low humming noise of intrigue, though didn’t take his eyes off the machine. “Yeah, I’ve been fixing up peoples cars since I was a kid,” He chuckled, “I’m sure I could get you out of here in no time.”

Beck took one last look at the engine before huffing and standing up straight, “Sounds like a plan, Parker. Let’s see what you got,” he stepped back to give Peter room. 

Realizing he didn’t have the necessary tools to address the task at hand, Peter said, “Do you have a toolbox with you— or something like that?” 

Beck smirked oddly, “Yes, yes, of course. It’s in the back of the van, should be right there when you open the doors.”

Peter gave a quick thanks before heading to the back of the vehicle and opening the doors with a soft click to— nothing? The space of the van was completely empty. No toolbox, or groceries like Beck had mentioned, were to be found. He leaned in thinking maybe he just wasn’t looking hard enough, or that what he needed was covered by shadows, but to no avail.

As he backed his head out of the van he called to the man, “Um, Mr. Beck—“ Peter jumped as Quentin was suddenly standing directly in front of him, making the boy jolt in surprise and fear. Before he could get another word out, the man shoved a cloth onto his mouth, spinning the teenager around with a tight arm clamped around his chest.

Peter quickly cut off his breathing, knowing what the cloth was soaked with. His heart pounded as he struggled, trying to kick out, punch, hit the man holding him but to no avail. Beck’s hold only strengthened and the cloth was pressed tighter against Peter's nose and mouth.

After mere seconds the pressure in Peter’s chest began to grow. He knew it wouldn’t be long before his body gave into his need for oxygen, and his struggling increased tenfold, no longer calculated but desperate and panicked. Beck gave a terrifying growl and shoved their bodies forward, Peter slamming into the brick wall. That was all it took for his efforts to forcefully cease, the wind effectively knocked out of him. The teenager reflexively gasped for air, tears springing to his eyes at both the stinging fumes emitting from the chloroform-soaked cloth and crippling fear.

Peter’s world spun, stars popped before his eyes. He could hear Beck’s horrifying chuckle from above as he sank to the damp ground. 

The cloth was removed from his face but it didn’t matter— he was on the verge of consciousness. Just before darkness overtook him he locked eyes with the man he once trusted, now transformed into something he didn’t recognize.

—————

When Peter awoke next, he was sprawled out in the back of Beck’s van. His body rocked back and forth with the movements of the vehicle as it drove down a road he was unable to see before coming to a slow stop. By then, the fuzziness left by the drugs had somewhat cleared up, replaced now by dizzying fear and the weight of his predicament sunk in.  _ Kidnapped by one of his bosses. Cool. _

As his captor rummaged around with things in the front seat, Peter took stock of his surroundings. Nothing more than the back of a van, completely empty pristine grey metal walls, which somehow made it even more terrifying. The teen sat up, world spinning for the upteenth time. By the time it had settled, the drivers door had slammed shut and Peter could hear the heavy footfalls of Beck rounding the van. 

The teen’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, fear coursing through his veins turning his body to ice. He was frozen in his spot, knowing there was nowhere to go. He’d have to fight his way out somehow, though his brain logically supplied the unlikeliness of that happening. Beck was a much, much larger man than him, and who knew what weapons he held. Peter could only hope he wouldn’t hurt him.

Peter planned to make a break for it and jump out as soon as the doors opened, sitting up into a ready position. However as quickly as the doors opened they were once again locked shut and Beck was on top of Peter, pinning the struggling boy’s wrists with his painfully tight grip.

“No,  _ no!  _ Let me go!” Peter shouted, trying to kick out at his attacker to no avail.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, baby boy,” he spoke dangerously, successfully pinning Peter into a position where his movements were forced to stop. Peter panted heavily, tears welling in his eyes with fear and horror when he felt the hardness of Beck’s clothed member against his thigh. Peter shook his head, at a loss for words, brain struggling to comprehend what he knew was to come. “Yeah you feel that, don’t you Pete?” He moaned as he peppered kisses across the petrified boy’s face and down his neck, stopping at a few spots to suck at the skin.

“S—Stop,” Peter managed to stutter out, weakly pushing against the man keeping him pressed into the floor of the van. He knew it was futile.

“You’ve been driving me wild for months,” Quentin said as he began to rock his hips slowly, tightening his hold as the action made his victim squirm. “Prancing around the tower, batting your eyelashes and acting all innocent with that perky ass on display for anyone to lay eyes on,” Peter shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, tears now falling freely. “I’ve been watching your every move for weeks. I needed this to be  _ perfect _ ,” He continued sucking on a spot at Peter’s neck before biting it, making the boy gasp and reflexively shift away. It only egged the man on more. 

He unbuttoned Peter’s pants, muffling the protest with a sloppy kiss. Peter had to suppress a gag as he shook like a leaf with fear. The man continued undressing the boy, growling into the teenager’s lips in frustration after a particularly violent struggle. Beck sat up and gathered something from behind him.

A sleek black pistol was revealed, stealing Peter’s breath away. His blood turned to ice, and reality truly set in. “I will get what I  _ want _ ,” Beck seethed, pressing the gun into Peter’s temple. “Your pathetic attempts at running away will do nothing. I’ll fuck your virgin ass dead or alive, you hear me!?” He shouted and shoved the gun into Peter’s forehead, causing the boy to whimper and cower in fear. Pain radiated from the spot as he nodded, resigning himself to his fate.

Peter now openly sobbed as Beck released his wrists, the teen remaining unmoving in fear of his life. His T-shirt was swiftly removed, shoes and socks torn off violently before his jeans were tugged down, discarded somewhere behind Beck leaving him in nothing but his boxers. Beck was now completely naked, having stripped along with Peter. His hardened cock hung loosely, the size of it sending a new wave of fear down Peter’s spine.

The boy flinched when Beck’s hand fondled Peter’s clothed crotch, fingers then moving to the rim of his underwear. The fabric was brought down slowly, as if Beck was trying to preserve the moment. Peter closed his eyes once he was fully exposed, but could nevertheless feel the man’s hungry stare, a mesmerized moan filling the van’s space. Peter’s cheeks heated with embarrassment and humiliation.

His eyes snapped open when Beck wrapped his hand around Peter, quickly beginning to jerk him off. A surprised gasp escaped Peter’s mouth and his hands instinctively attempted to shoved Beck’s away. Peter thought for a moment he had somehow succeeded as the man ceased and sat up again, but it became clear why when a roll of duct tape appeared in his hands. A pitiful sob wracked his body as Beck further confined him, wordlessly restraining the boys wrists above his head. 

When the man was finished he tossed the roll away carelessly and resumed his previous efforts, this time twisting his hand as he worked up and down the boy’s shaft, rubbing the head in a way that made Peter gasp. His cock twitched and dread flooded his veins. No. No, no,  _ no _ . This couldn’t happen, he thought. He would not get off on his own rape. But his body betrayed him and he only continued to get harder, eliciting a chuckle from the man above. “Fucking slut, I knew you’d be good for me,” He spoke as his other hand wandered between Peter’s thighs.

A finger prodded around the boy’s hole, teasing. “Please, no. Please, please  _ stop _ ,” he pleaded again, knowing they’d fall on deaf ears. They did, and Beck slowed his motions on his dick as his attention was diverted. The finger slid in.

“Gonna prep you for my cock, Petey. Gonna get you all ready to take me,” He sunk his finger further in, Peter biting his lip to keep from crying out. It burned, and the boy didn’t know how he was going to to be able to endure Beck’s full length.

Another finger was inserted and the man began to thrust them in and out. “Ah,” Peter gasped, body betraying him as the action caused more blood to rush to his dick. Why was his body betrayed him?

“That’s it, sweetheart,” The older man panted as he touched himself, spitting on his fingers before adding a third. Peter whimpered pathetically, toes curling, Beck licking his lips in response, the sick fuck.

Only a minute more of stretching and Beck couldn’t seem to contain himself any longer. His fingers popped out of Peter’s hole, wet and slick. The teenager continued to cry openly, chest heaving and he tried to mentally prepare for what was to come.

Beck gripped Peter’s thighs, spreading them apart and lifting his legs. The boy pulled at the tape circling his wrists as Beck spit into Peter’s hole once more. “Lubed up and ready for me, just like I’ve been dreaming of. You’re perfect, Peter,” as if this was something anyone should  _ dream  _ about. The man lined up his head against Peter’s entrance, violently pulling the boy closer.

The pressure as Beck breached him was immeasurable, pain mixed with sick and confusing pleasure. He was not enjoying himself, he didn’t  _ want  _ this, so why was his body reacting like this. Shame engulfed him amongst the pain, horror, and fear.

“Oh yeah, fuck,” Beck groaned, now fully inside him. Without warning he drew back and slammed back into Peter, a silent scream drawn from the teen.

“Ah!” Peter cried out when he thrusted again, setting a medium pace sliding in and out. “Fuck!”

Beck panted heavily above him, in a state of bliss. “Yeah, your tight virgin ass is so sweet. Squeezing my cock perfectly—  _ Ngh! _ ” He slammed in particularly hard, stopping for a short moment before resuming.

“Stop, please—  _ Ah,  _ stop it, Mr. Beck, please!” He cried, tears of agony and humiliation pouring down his face.

“You want me to stop? Hm?” He said and reached to grip Peter’s bouncing cock again with his free hand.

“ _ Ohhhh _ ,” Peter moaned, stars dancing in his vision as Beck stroked Peter’s dick in time with his piercing thrusts. “N-No, ah, fuck, please, I can’t—  _ Fuuuck! _ ”

It continued like that for a few more minutes, Peter unsure of when he would spill over the edge. Beck then ceased, his hand releasing its grip on the boys member as his own cock slipped out of Peter’s abused hole. He almost instinctively cried out at the lost contact, Beck re-angling and shifting Peter’s body before forcing himself inside once again.

This time, Peter’s vision whited out as Beck hit something and pleasure seeped into every cell in his body. He might have screamed with it, he doesn’t know, but when he came back to his senses Quentin was speaking, “Yeah, you fucking feel that baby, don’t you. Like when your boss hits your prostate, you fucking whore?” He doubled his efforts, pounding into Peter like a wild animal. The boy couldn’t help but let out a moan at every thrust, the man hitting that sweet-spot every time.

“Ah!”  _ Thrust. “ _ Ahh!”  _ Thrust.  _ “Oh!”  _ Thrust. _

The sound of skin slapping against skin and the pair’s moans filled the van, the entire vehicle rocking with the force of Beck’s thrusts. “You’re the best I’ve ever had, honey,  _ fuck _ .” He slammed into Peter three times before planting a kiss on his lips, their own hot, panting breaths colliding. The kisses advanced down his neck once again, balls slapping against Peter’s ass perfectly.

“Ngh, ah, Ngh, Ngh, ohhhh,” The boy couldn’t stop the wordless, desperate sounds that escaped his mouth.

“I’m fucking close, baby. Gonna fill you up with daddy’s cum. Gonna fill you up so fucking good,” He panted, moving away from where he was sucking Peter’s neck into a straightened position. He wrapped his hand around Peter’s cock, twisting his grip and rubbing in thumb over the slit that now leaked pre-cum, eliticing inhuman sounds from the boy it belonged to. 

Peter was close too, now. Beck continued to slam painfully into his stretched hole as he jerked his cock, fucking him violently. “Oh! Oh! Oh, oh, ohohohoh,” Peter’s moans grew in pace and volume, hips now thrusting to meet Beck’s. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, excruciating ecstasy. He hated it, he wished it to be over, but his teenage anatomy would not allow it to stop.

Beck’s hips began to stutter, thrusting deeper as he neared his end. Peter could feel everything that had been building bubble to the surface as his thighs twitched. “I’m gonna— fuck, I’m gonna cum—“ He whined.

“Go ahead, baby. Cum for me. Dirty fucking slut,” and with another slam into the boy’s prostate, he did. 

“AHHHHH!” He screamed, eyes rolling into the back of his head, thick white ropes spurting onto his stomach. “Ohhhh,” he moaned  _ deeply _ , guttural as he rode his orgasm out on Beck’s cock, the man speeding up his thrusts before stopping entirely as his hot cum filled Peter up. The boy felt the warmth coat his walls, Beck riding out his own climax by thrusting a few more times into the boy before finally pulling out.

Peter remained sprawled out on the ground, arms still above him, taped together. Beck rested for a moment, sitting on the van floor. He ran his hands through his hair, nothing but Peter’s pitiful ashamed cries filling the space.

Peter thought it was over. That is, until his rapist grabbed the tape again, ripping off a piece and slapping it over the teen’s lips.

“You thought I was done, didn’t you cum-slut. No, I know you’ve got at least one more in you, Petey-pie,” he said, finger swiping through a string of cum on his stomach and popping the white substance in his mouth like icing.

Peter watched in fear as Beck slid back until his face was level with Peter’s crotch, licking his lips dramatically while maintaining eye contact with his victim. The teen shook his head, pleading with his eyes but was once again proved that Quentin had no mercy.

He took Peter’s cock in his mouth, all the way down to the boy’s balls. Peter thought he couldn’t possibly cum again, not after the intensity of the last. But his body seemed intent on proving him wrong, and his gut heated up once more, previously softened dick growing in Quentin’s mouth which appeared to be his goal if the pleased, approving moan was anything to go by.

Once satisfied with the hardness, Beck began to bob his head up and down, taking Peter’s length in his mouth. The same feeling of pleasure rushed through Peter’s body again. He tried to hold back his sounds, to deny Beck what he wanted, but it proved fruitless.

“ _ Mmmmph _ ,” Peter moaned beneath the tape as he sucked the head of his cock. Beck then added his hand to the mix, stroking it while engulfing Peter’s dick. The boy could feel everything, the way Beck’s lips felt, the way his head would hit the back of Beck’s throat, how the man’s beard scraped against his hips like sandpaper,  _ everything.  _ “Mmm, mm, mm,” the noises came involuntarily.

Beck popped his mouth off of Peter’s cock, saying, “That’s enough of that,” and reached over to rip the tape off. He then  _ squeezed  _ Peter’s dick where he had his hold on it, making the teen cry out. Unexpectedly, Quentin’s mouth then went to his balls, licking and sucking on the testicles like lollipops. “Ahhh, no!” He exclaimed.

“ _ Yes _ , baby boy,” Beck responded before suddenly taking Peter’s wet cock in his mouth once again, increasing his speed and efforts. Peter couldn’t help it when his hips thrust into the man’s mouth. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned.

At this point, Peter was desperate to dissociate, to escape the hell he was being subject to. It was as if his body was possessed by a demon of lust, cursing it with temptations his mind didn’t want. Peter’s back arched off the van’s floor as he neared his end for the second and hopefully last time, Beck’s tongue roaming every inch of his dick. “Ahh,” he groaned as his muscles twitched, hips thrusting ruthlessly into Quentin’s mouth in time with his sucking.

What pushed him over the edge was the feeling of Beck choking on his cock, hips clenching before his cum shot down the man’s throat as he gave out a ruthless, broken moan.

He must have blanked out for a minute following the second orgasm, because next thing he knew, Beck was pulling him towards the open van doors. He grabbed the boy by his shoulders, pulling him into a sitting position. Peter vaguely registered the protest his abused hole gave at the movement and winced.

“You were so good for me, Peter. The perfect little whore I imagined you were,” He whispered into his ear. Pete was too physically and mentally exhausted to bother protesting. “We’ll have to do it again sometime. Oh, and don’t think about going and running your mouth to your precious Tony, unless you want him along with the whole world to know what a slut you are,” He spat. To Peter’s horror, Quentin held up a video camera, video of his rape playing softly. Before the teen could respond he was violently shoved from the van, hitting the ground hard as his duct taped hands weren’t able to catch himself. They were in an empty park somewhere Peter didn’t recognize, forest surrounding them. He wondered how far away Quentin took him from home. 

Peter turned just as Beck threw his clothes on top of his naked form, stepping out of the van and closing the back doors. Still without clothes himself, Beck didn’t even spare him a glance before entering the front seat, starting the engine, and driving away, kicking up dust onto the abused teenager as he went. 


End file.
